


Sunny Days

by bizzybee



Series: Requests [11]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Academia (mild), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Other, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transfem Sylvain Jose Gautier, Transmasc Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee
Summary: Ingrid discovers several things in their Women and Gender Studies Class. Namely, a new annoyance, an old friend, a failing grade, and enough headaches to last a lifetime.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Requests [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835620
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	Sunny Days

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from Melody! Thanks for the commission!
> 
> Please keep Creator's style on for the best experience! For those who use screen readers, ALT text is provided for each image.

Ingrid hates their project partner in their Women’s and Gender Studies class.

They don’t know why. As soon as she introduced herself, though, with a wink and a wave and a name ( _Sylvia,_ Ingrid notes to themself), Ingrid is hit with both a bolt of familiarity and a shock of hatred. 

It doesn’t help that Sylvia doesn’t seem to care. Ingrid arrives fifteen minutes before class to go over their notes from the previous day and dick around a bit on Twitter while they get settled. 

Sylvia, though, oftentimes rolls in five, ten, or even fifteen minutes into the lecture, sneaking into the seat next to Ingrid no matter how much they glare at her. 

It’s only two weeks into the class before Ingrid breaks. 

“Look, Sylvia,” they say as soon as the lecture has ended, snapping their laptop shut with a click. “I’m not going to keep pretending like I don’t see you copying my notes every day in class.” 

Sylvia doesn’t even try to hide it. She leans back in her chair, smiling a wide grin at Ingrid that makes their blood boil. “What can I say?” she says. “Your notes are just so much more thorough than mine. I can appreciate a thorough notetaker, can’t I?” 

“No,” Ingrid says, grouchy. “You can’t.”

Sylvia pouts ( _Pouts!_ Ingrid thinks), and sighs unhappily as she slides her own laptop into her bag. “How about this? You let me copy your notes, I’ll help you study for the exams. Win-win.” 

Ingrid rolls their eyes. “Please. Not gonna happen. I’m not that keen on flunking.” 

“Your loss,” Sylvia smiles, and walks out without another word. 

Ingrid highly, highly doubts that.

\--   
  
\--

Ingrid sits on the campus bus and stares down at their phone. They are going to kill Felix. Felix would definitely kill them if he found out that Ingrid had given his phone number to some random stranger. So, they figure, it’s only justified.

They sigh, turning down their brightness as they try and figure out how to reply.

\--  
  
\--

Ingrid seriously doubts that.

\--  
  
  
\-- 

Ingrid taps out of their conversation. Goddess. What a twat. They tap back to their messages.

\--  
  
\--

Ingrid puts their phone away.

\--

When Ingrid checks the test scores next Wednesday, they wonder, for the briefest of moments, if Sylvia had cheated.

No, they think. Sylvia may be a pain in the ass, but they don’t think she’d cheat. 

She seems much too smug, anyway, sliding into the seat next to Ingrid’s that Wednesday. 

“You’re on time for once,” Ingrid grumbles. They’d gotten a 72. _Passing!_ They try to remind themself. 

It doesn’t work. 

“I figured since I got a ninety-nine,” Sylvia says, somehow both casual and vain at once as she leans back in her chair, hands behind her head, “I should start taking my studies more seriously.” 

Ingrid nearly snaps the pen they’re holding. 

“Look, Ingrid,” Sylvia says, her voice hardly changed but somehow more sincere. “My offer’s still on the table. Your notes for my help studying. What do you say?” 

“How do I know you didn’t just use my notes to study and that’s how you aced it?” Ingrid snaps. 

“I guess you don’t.” Sylvia shrugs. “Maybe I just want to hang out with you. Maybe I just think you’re handsome. Did you ever think about that?”

Ingrid blinks, face blank. “No.” 

“You wound me.”

Ingrid turns back to their laptop. 

“Ingrid,” Sylvia says, voice whiny. “Please can I copy your notes. I’m no good at note-taking.” 

Ingrid sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Fine. Bring me coffee next class. I don’t need your help studying.” 

They can feel Sylvia’s smile from the other side of the table.

\--  
  
\--

Sylvia shows up on time again, strangely enough. She carries two iced coffees in hand, depositing one on the table in front of them.

“As promised,” she says triumphantly. “I’ll text you my email for the notes.” 

“Fine,” says Ingrid. They sip on the coffee. 

It’s perfect.

\--

Their routine goes a bit like this.

Sylvia brings Ingrid coffee. Ingrid emails her their notes. They don’t talk much outside of this, save for when Sylvia asks Ingrid again and again if she can’t help them study. 

“Why do you care so much?” Ingrid asks suddenly one day, a bit fed up with it all. “It’s not your business whether I pass this class or not.” 

They’re leaning towards not, actually, though they don't tell that to Sylvia. Their grade stays ever teetering between a C minus and a D plus. Too many essays, they say. Ingrid’s always hated essays.

“Well, first of all, if you flunk out, there goes my notetaker,” Sylvia says. 

Ingrid stares down at their laptop, cheeks burning. 

“Really, though. Maybe I just want to see a friend pass a class they’re struggling in, even though they’re clearly working hard. Is that too much to ask?” 

“Yes,” Ingrid snaps. They roll their eyes as Sylvia laughs. 

Were they friends? Ingrid isn’t sure. Their only friends are Felix and Ashe, really. They had friends before college. Not so much anymore, though. 

_She does bring me coffee every class,_ Ingrid reckons. That has to count for something, right? 

“Fine,” Ingrid says. 

“You’re welcome,” Sylvia goads encouragingly. 

“Ugh. Thanks.” 

“Knew you could do it, Ingrid. Meet you in the lower level of the library on Friday? At seven?” 

“Fine.”

\--  
  
\--

Friday evening arrives sooner than Ingrid would like. They’ve just barely gotten through ignoring Annette texting them to ask about their date, which, of course, it isn’t. It seems as though all their friends already know Sylvia, though, which is strange. Ingrid has no idea how they got through two years of college without meeting her before, but frankly, they don’t care.

They enter the library fifteen minutes early on Friday, staking out one of the smaller tables in the lower levels for the two of them. 

They're not at all surprised that Sylvia's late, pulling into 

“I brought pizza,” she says, sliding the box across the table. “Eat it or I’ll cry.” 

Ingrid rolls their eyes. “What if I told you I already had dinner?” 

“I’m going to cry,” Sylvia winks, then sits.

Ingrid stares down at the box. They frown. Sylvia had never mentioned-

“What?” asks Sylvia. “Don’t like pepperoni?” 

“You’re a Gautier?”

It’s the first time they’ve seen Sylvia’s mask drop. She starts, and Ingrid sees the smile turn to a frown for just a moment before Sylvia pulls the box back, flipping it open to reveal the pizza. 

“Why?” Sylvia asks. “You heard of me?” She winks again, but she’s not smiling this time. Her voice is strange, guarded in a way that Ingrid hasn't heard before. 

“Yeah,” Ingrid says, trying to gather their thoughts. “I…” they trail off. 

“Why? What’s your last name?” 

“...Galatea.” 

Silence falls over the table. 

“Hold on, I never asked,” Sylvia says, as though she's just realizing this. She puts a finger to her chin. “How do you know Felix?” 

“We were childhood friends,” Ingrid says. “Along with… one of the Gautiers.”

“Well, shit.” Ingrid watches blankly as Sylvia pulls out her phone, tapping and scrolling for a moment before passing it across the table. “Is that you?” 

Ingrid nods, her head feeling as though it’s being moved like a puppet on a string. 

It’s a photo of Ingrid and two other kids when they were all younger; Ingrid thinks about five or six. Ingrid’s in the middle, hair down to their shoulders, with Felix on one side and someone Ingrid lost contact with a long, long time ago on the other, wearing camouflage shorts and with short red hair.

“You’re-” Ingrid starts, then stops, swallowing. 

“Yeah,” Sylvia says. 

“I’m-”

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t Felix say anything?” the two of them say nearly in unison, Ingrid’s voice angry and Sylvia’s voice gently curious.

“Goddess, he’s the worst,” Ingrid grumbles, and picks up a slice of pizza. 

Sylvia snorts. “You know, I always wondered what happened to you. When I left before middle school, I don’t know. I missed you guys.” 

Ingrid frowns. “I missed you, too,” they grumble, biting at the pizza with more force than necessary. 

“Really now?” Sylvia says. She picks up a piece of pizza as well, dabbing the grease off with a napkin before starting. They both eat in silence for a moment before she continues, “Weird, isn’t it? That the three of us ended up at the same school.”

Ingrid huffs. “I always thought you’d go to a fancy Ivy League or something. You had the grades for it. And the dad.” 

“The grades for it? In fifth grade?” Sylvia smiles, then looks down at her pizza. “And, uh, dad cut me off after high school.” 

“No shit?”

Sylvia shrugs. “I mean, it doesn’t matter. I’m happier now. Working two full time jobs while I’m in school to keep myself afloat, but happy.” 

Ingrid feels a strange pang of guilt just then. They don’t know why. It’s not as though they’re exactly rich, or as though Sylvia ever reached out to ask for help. Still, though, they feel as though they should have known. 

“I’m sorry,” they blurt. 

When Sylvia smiles this time, it looks almost genuine. “Nothing to be sorry for,” she says. “It’s not like you knew I was here.” 

“Fair. Does Felix know? That you’re the Gautier kid?” 

“Yep. He guessed it right off the bat,” Sylvia laughs. “I’m sort of not surprised he didn’t tell you, though.” 

“Me neither,” Ingrid admits, rolling their eyes. “He’s an asshole.” 

“Aren’t we all?” 

“No. I’m amazing.” 

Sylvia lets out a real laugh, then, one that makes Ingrid look down at the table as their ears turn red, one that makes several people around them glare. “Just as cocky as you were back then, huh?”

“It’s confidence. Cockiness is when it’s unfounded. Like with you.” 

Sylvia clutches her chest dramatically. “Ouch. Shot through the heart.” 

“Shut up.”

“Is that how you talk to an old friend?”

“It’s how I talk to Felix.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Sylvia tosses her crust back into the box. Ingrid picks it up immediately, eating it in a few short bites. 

“This is weird,” they say. 

“A bit,” Sylvia considers. “Good weird?” 

Ingrid shrugs. 

“Wanna just study and not talk about it?” 

“Please.” 

Ingrid doesn’t leave the library until it’s well and truly dark outside, feeling ready for their exam next week for the first time this semester. Sylvia walks at their side, books under one arm. 

“Ingrid,” she says, just as Ingrid was getting used to the comfort of silence. 

“Sylvia.”

“Was this a date?” Sylvia asks, a grin plastered back on her face. 

Ingrid rolls their eyes. “No.”

This doesn’t seem to faze Sylvia in the slightest. “You know,” she says. “Back when I thought I was, you know, straight and cis, I had a big crush on you.” 

“You mean when we were ten?” 

“Yeah? Childhood love, Ingrid. It’s real.” 

Ingrid snorts. “Sure. Okay.” 

“Why do you think I always pulled your hair on the playground?” 

“Because you’re an ass? If I recall, you got sent to the office for that.” 

“Yeah, okay, my memory’s kind of fuzzy.” Sylvia waves off. 

The truth is, though, Ingrid doesn’t hate her so much anymore. It’s not even because they discovered their earlier connection. Sylvia’s… nice. Annoying, Ingrid thinks, but nice. They remember how they all played together as kids. Ingrid had thought they were inseparable. The high school years were rough, with both them and Felix beginning their social transition. They always wondered how it would’ve been if Sylvia was there, too. 

“This isn’t a date,” Ingrid starts. 

“As stated,” nods Sylvia. 

“But. I guess. If you wanted to ask me on one. I would be fine with that.” Goddess, this is terrible. This is a mistake. Ingrid’s going to go home, bury their head in their pillows, and die. 

Sylvia’s smile, though, almost makes up for it. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Just not right now.” 

“Aw, why not? Ingrid Galatea, will you do me the honor-”

“I will bite you.” 

“Promise?” Sylvia waggles her eyebrows. 

“Shut up.” 

In truth, they missed bickering with her. They missed it when they were apart, and now that they’re back, it feels easy, natural to fall back into the same way they used to talk. Ingrid didn’t realize how much they missed it until they’re closing their apartment door behind them, phone buzzing with a text.

\--  
  
\--

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter @bizzybee429!


End file.
